Having once heard of Miss Bolton it seemed fated that she should both hear and see more; the heiress appeared to cross her path at every turn, and for some reason which she could not altogether explain Jill entertained a very lively antipathy for her. Next Friday when St. John arrived at the Art School as usual her name again cropped up, and this time it was he who introduced it. "I have found you a fresh pupil," he said, "if you care about bothering with another almost as great a novice as myself, what do you say, eh?" "Oh!" cried Jill, "I shall be delighted. But did you explain all the disadvantages people patronising my studio have to battle with? Did you mention the stairs?" St. John laughed. "Yes," he answered. "But indeed you over-estimate the inconvenience of those stairs; they are nothing when you get accustomed to them. I am growing quite attached to them myself." "I am glad of that," Jill answered smiling. "Do you know I was rather afraid at first that they would drive you away." "_Afraid_!" he repeated incredulously. "I thought you were hoping that they would." "Then how ungenerous of you to have kept on coming. But tell me about my new pupil,--masculine or feminine gender?--minor or adult?" "It is my cousin Miss Bolton," he answered, "the lady who was unfortunate enough to run you down last week." Jill's face fell; he could not help seeing it though he pretended not to. "The lady who had run her down!" Yes, she had indeed "run her down" in more senses than one. She turned away to hide her disappointment, and stood looking out of the window at the dirty roofs of the opposite houses. St. John watched her in silence. At length she spoke. "I hope Miss Bolton doesn't think that that trifling accident which was as much my fault as hers necessitates a step of such great condescension?" she said. "I cannot look at it in any other light for a lady in her position could study under the best masters how and where she pleased; her coming here, therefore, is a great condescension and I should be sorry to think that she inconvenienced herself under the mistaken idea that she owed me some slight reparation." St. John worked perturbed. This small person had a way of making him feel decidedly uncomfortable at times. "Miss Bolton's fancy to study art is a merely temporary whim," he answered. He did not add that the whim had been adopted at his instigation, and with a desire to please him rather than any enthusiasm on the subject, but went on gravely. "Her resolve to attend here is, I am conceited enough to believe, more on account of my doing so than any wish to obligate you. However as it has vexed you I am sorry that I mentioned the matter."